


Abomination (The Demi-Angel Chronicles)

by krysnel_nicavis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Episode: s08e10 Torn and Frayed, Fledglings, Gen, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Souls, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7847653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One small discovery can change the course of everything that comes after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abomination (The Demi-Angel Chronicles)

**Author's Note:**

> Set prior to and during 5.22 “Swan Song”; Minor reference to 8.10 “Torn and Frayed”; Very minor reference to season 11.
> 
> This is my first foray into the world of Supernatural fan fiction. Hope I can do it justice.

The archangel Raphael was also the main angel of all things that fell under the category of healing.  There was once a time, not so very long ago, when he actually remembered what that truly meant.  Once, Heaven’s Halls of Healing were his first priority.

In the long years since the disappearance of their Heavenly Father, Raphael had delegated the majority of the duties he’d once taken careful pride in to lesser angels that fell under his command.  God was gone.  Lucifer had fallen and was locked away in Hell.  Gabriel was missing, presumed dead.  The two remaining archangels had more pressing matters to attend to.  Raphael was still the Angel of Healing.  He still received regular reports on significant happenings.  These days, with the Apocalypse upon them, the reports were mainly that of death.  He did what he could in the battle, and was hands-on when needed.

Along with the Halls of Healing there was another, very special, place in Heaven that fell under Raphael’s responsibility.  One that may be even more important than any other.

The Nursery.

Housed inside the Nursery was a collection of precious treasures.  Each unique, each a small shining beacon of hope.  They were the Bulbs.  Tiny glowing pods of pure celestial intent.  Graces.  These Bulbs would one day bloom and grow into fledglings.  New angels.  Awoken, by the power of the archangels, into the paradise that was promised to them by their Father.  Once an Earth century or so, the Nursery is carefully and reverently inventoried.  The small Bulbs examined to ensure the fledgling graces were pulsing, healthy and steady.

Their father had made the Bulbs creation possible, the melding of grace fragments from two separate angels, but had allowed for their formation to be spontaneous.  As a result, their formation was even more special.  Each Bulb’s creation, they came to realize, coincided with a key event in the life of a chosen angel.  This was usually some great accomplishment by the angel.  A reward for triumph.  A small fragment of the chosen angel’s grace would break away from the angel’s grace and meld with that of another angel who was, in some significant way, connected with the first.  Even Lucifer had been chosen once for his part in locking away the Darkness.  His grace had been melded with that of Gabriel’s, who had once been quite close to his older brother.

In anticipation of the Great Showdown between Michael and Lucifer, and Michael’s inevitable victory, Raphael had ordered the Nursery be re-inventoried.  All the Bulbs were examined and accounted for.  Everything was exactly as expected.

Until it wasn’t.

On the eve of the Day of Battle something startling was brought to Raphael’s attention.  A new Bulb had been discovered on a far shelf of the Nursery.  Under normal circumstances the appearance of a new Bulb was cause for great celebration.  A new brother or sister to strengthen the ranks of Heaven’s Host was a blessing.

But something was wrong with this Bulb.  Something was different.

Raphael rushed to the Nursery to examine the strange new Bulb himself.  Even before he touched it he could tell something was off.  The colour was wrong.  Angel grace was what humans would call a bold electric blue.  This Bulb was much paler.  Almost white in comparison with the ones around it.  It was also visibly smaller than a normal Bulb should be.  Dwarfed by the others, it was about the size of a human golf ball.  The other Bulbs were the equivalent of a soccer ball.  Despite its small size, it pulsated with energy.  He reached out and picked the tiny thing up off its’ shelf.  The second his hand grazed the Bulb, he _knew_.

* * *

“You were right to keep this silent,” Michael spoke gravely.  The Bulb was sitting on the desk between the two brothers.  “Something must be done.”

“Agreed, brother,” Raphael inclined his head. “This… _abomination_ … cannot be allowed a place in paradise.” Raphael’s disgust was evident.  "You remember what its’ Earthborn equivalents were like, amongst the mud monkeys and filth.”

“Yes. I recall,” Michael conceded distractedly.  He sighed. “But I am… hesitant.”

Raphael paused.  He turned his attention to the pitiful example of a Bulb.  He sighed as well. “Yes. I believe I know what you mean.”

“What do you suggest we do with it?” Michael asked after an extended silence. “We cannot simply destroy a Bulb.” Both archangels shuddered at the prospect of harming a beacon of hope.

“But we cannot let such an abomination bloom.” They were silent once more.  Lost in thought. “How is such a thing possible at all?”

Michael sighed once more.  This time in annoyance. “Castiel has always been… impetuous. This trait has served him very well in the battlefield.”

“He has also always been oddly _willful_ ,” Raphael interjected.  Spitting the word out as though it were dirty. “Naomi has sometimes had her hands full… So much like Gabriel was.”

 _And even Lucifer_.  Neither voiced this.

“Hmm,” Michael intoned noncommittally.

* * *

Michael had arrived at Stull Cemetery early.  He honestly wasn’t sure why he had the little Bulb in his pocket, but he stashed his semi-precious cargo carefully amidst the yellowing grass next to a tombstone.  It would be sheltered enough from where he planned to confront his younger brother – after all, both grace and souls were rather resilient.  The battle would be a glorious one.  Hymns would be penned about it.  And then he’d decide what to do with the little abomination.

The plan had been perfect.  But nothing ever really goes according to plan.  Especially when a Winchester is involved.  Too bad for Michael that he took a little too long to learn this.

As Michael was temporarily banished with holy fire, Lucifer took care of the three interlopers one by one.  The glare of light off the window of the ’67 Chevy seemed to trigger a cascade of memories from his vessel’s life.  The emotional surge that resulted from this was just strong enough to knock Lucifer off balance and allow Sam to regain control.  But the atmospheric upset of the pit leading to the Cage being opened dislodged something from its’ hiding place.

In his haste to confront his younger brother, Michael had forgotten where he’d stashed the undesirable Bulb.  And so it happened that their little confrontation occurred within a few short metres of its’ hiding place.

The little ball of light caught Sam’s eye and Lucifer was reasonably startled when he recognized it for what it was.  He wrestled back control of the vessel and snatched up the precious little orb, completely encasing it in one of Sam’s ginormous hands.  Just as when Raphael first touched it, the moment it grazed his skin he _knew_.  As a result, he was blindsided enough for Sam to take back control.  Sam was so intent on getting Lucifer back into the Cage that he completely missed the significance of the little orb he now held in his hand.

Michael returned and attempted to reason with Sam.  This was destiny.  This was written…  He watched in horror as Sam took a last step back and began to fall over the edge.  Into the Cage.  Michael scrambled to grab hold of Lucifer’s vessel, to stop him from falling.

He failed.

He also failed to notice the small bluish-white light fall from Sam’s hand and roll over the edge of the hole and down into the pit with them.

* * *

The first thing Lucifer was aware of when they hit bottom was a sense of his singular existence.  He was no longer housed in the same form as Sam.  In the Cage, there was no need for sharing such close living quarters.  The second, and possibly more important thing, was the flickering of a Bulb.  A  _Bulb_ .  In the Cage.  In  _Hell_ .

He watched as his older brother picked up the tiny thing with a sneer.  He was unashamed to admit a building horror when his brother, the most righteous Son of God, the Protector, caused flames to emerge in the hand that held the treasured little light.  He’d noticed from the start how much smaller it was than normal.  And the moment he held it he understood why.  He also understood why his brother was attempting to do what he was cruelly doing.

The little sphere pulsated with an energy that was only half celestial intent… the other half was a fragment of a human soul.

Angels were instilled with a desire to protect the beacons of the future.  And, because of its mixed heritage, Michael’s first instinct was to destroy it.  Lucifer could not allow that.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure about the term “Bulbs”. I was amused by it because grace is essentially light and power. Part of me wonders if it’s too cheesy…


End file.
